


Not Quite the Apocalypse

by Udunie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:37:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8190364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/pseuds/Udunie
Summary: “The fuck you want?” he growled out, annoyed that he had to clear his throat to speak. Fuck concussions, seriously.One of them - a big guy, built like a brick shithouse - got on his feet and stepped into the light. He was huge and probably was going for the intimidation factor, but Remy wasn’t buying it. Size only mattered in the bedroom.“Well, well, well. Imagine my surprise when I heard about a certain… scout roaming around,” he said, and come on! Was he going for a villain spiel? That was annoying even before the world ended. Nowadays nobody had time for that kind of bullshit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lithophene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lithophene/gifts).



> This is a commission for the very patient Litophene, who was kind enough to let me play with their OCs! :D
> 
> As always, thanks to Emma for all the help <3

**** Remy really should have known better by now. Usually there was a reason why things got quiet in the city, and it was almost always bad. Sometimes the bad part wasn’t even zombies.

He knew he should have done a lot of things; tell people at the Haven actually where he was going and when he was planning to get back - like it would have been sensible - or, for example, look in front of his fucking bike before he drove straight into a cable stretched out over the road a foot from the ground.

In the second when he started flying - sailing in the air above his bike - his first thought was that the idiots should have placed the wire higher, and it would have easily decapitated him. His second thought, just before he landed in a giant pile of trash, was that maybe it had been intentional. Honestly, that was probably the worse of the two options.

 

***

 

When he woke up he had an inventory of his injuries before he even opened his eyes. It was almost second nature. Routine. Unlike most of the survivors, he had his fair share of trouble even before the outbreak, and it gave him a hard earned edge over everyone else.

Cracked ribs - two, probably. No. Three.

Concussion.

A huge bruise on his left thigh.

A few scrapes and cuts here and there, nothing worth writing home about.

The only bothersome thing was the concussion. It wasn’t too bad, but it would make him woozy and confused, and that was not something he could afford in a situation like this. Because apparently his hands were tied behind his back.

Zombies weren’t exactly good with knots, so that had to mean humans. Sometimes he didn’t know which was worse.

“He’s coming around, boss,” someone said, and since the game was up, Remy gave up playing sleeping beauty.

They were in an abandoned house somewhere. Basement. It could have been anywhere in the city, and he didn’t like the fact that there were no windows and only one door.

There was electricity though, and that had to mean this place had its own generator. From memory Remy knew three or four places like that, but there could have been more.

He could count five guys in the room, keeping to the shadows cast by the single lightbulb overhead. And they were smart to do so, because Remy was going to take names once he clawed his way out of this mess.

“The fuck you want?” he growled out, annoyed that he had to clear his throat to speak. Fuck concussions, seriously.

One of them - a big guy, built like a brick shithouse - got on his feet and stepped into the light. He was huge and probably was going for the intimidation factor, but Remy wasn’t buying it. Size only mattered in the bedroom.

“Well, well, well. Imagine my surprise when I heard about a certain… scout roaming around,” he said, and come  _ on _ ! Was he going for a villain spiel? That was annoying even before the world ended. Nowadays nobody had time for that kind of bullshit.

But now that he was looking at him, he did look kind of familiar. Remy wished he wasn’t so dizzy. It made his brain lag a step behind and he couldn’t afford that.

“Blond, riding a motorbike and sporting a really fucking distasteful snake tattoo,” he listed off on his fingers. Remy was still wearing his leather jacket, and it hid most of his snake, so that had to mean that this was - actually - personal.

“Are you a fan, or something, shithead? I mean, you fit the creepy stalker bill to the t, but seriously?”

The man laughed, it didn’t sound encouraging.

“No, you little maggot. You’re here to pay for my brother,” he said, with the tone of someone who was sure that a drumroll would follow. Shame that Remy had no idea what he was talking about.

“What? Is he for sale?”

The guy leaned down and slapped him hard, making Remy taste his own blood as he bit the inside of his cheek. Fuck. That did nothing to make his head hurt less.

“You killed him! You killed him two months ago, don’t act like you don’t remember, you little bastard!”

Remy raked his brain. Two months ago was before the Haven was established. It had been kind of eventful, and he had been drunk half of the time… But. Something… he did remember something.

Yeah. Yeah he had been looking for stuff in and abandoned mental hospital. Or at least he thought it had been abandoned, except for the pair of orderlies who didn’t take lightly for someone scavenging their territory.

Oh. Yeah, he did kind of kill one of them. Nothing personal though, just survival.

He huffed out a breath, licking his bloody lip.

“Now that you mention it, I do remember shooting a rabid dog around then… big, dumb thing that didn’t know when to back off,” he said, grinning, because fuck. If he was going to die, he would be as annoying as possible. 

 

***

 

He expected to be hit again, but it never came, the big guy - Adrian! Yeah, that’s what the dead guy called him back then - was just towering over him with a scowl on his face.

“Oh yeah?” he said, voice deep and threatening. “Oh, yeah, you little maggot? We'll see about that. We will see who ends up being a dirty animal tonight.”

Remy spit towards him, missing his leg, but still satisfied with the effort.

Adrian swore under his breath as he stepped back and nodded at his man.

“Alright, have at him.”

 

***

 

He kicked and he screamed and he struggled, but with a concussion and his hands tied there wasn’t much he could do. Sure, he sent one or two of the goons flying, but they got up again, and only became rougher.

Remy was pushed face first onto a table, as calloused hands tugged his pants down, kicking his feet apart. 

“Fuck you, you fucking…” 

Someone grabbed a fistful of his hair and banged his head against the table, the others laughing at his pained grunt. Fuck. His head was hurting.

“Gonna enjoy the shit out of this,” one of them said, and a second later there were slick fingers at his hole. Whatever they were using for lube was thick and… heavy. Like engine grease.

He was stretched fast - too fast, and not nearly enough - and then someone was pushing into him, his dick fat as it forced its way inside.

Remy wanted to swear at them, to scream, to do something other than just take it, but he had to clench his teeth to stop himself from whining in pain. He wouldn’t give them the pleasure.

It hurt. Sure, he was used to fucking, but that wasn’t like this. Mason… Mason was a big fucking softy compared to this. He was too good for Remy… He forced himself to stop thinking about that. He didn’t want to think about his man right now. All he wanted to think about was how he was going to take these motherfuckers out when he got the chance.

“You enjoying yourself?” Adrian asked, pulling his head up by his hair painfully.

Remy gave him a bloody grin, but he could tell him to die in a fire the guy pounding into him pushed in deep, circling his hips and making him… moan.

Shit.

Adrian laughed, loud and ugly.

“You do! Damn, I can’t believe I can’t even punish you without you having fun like a fucking dog in heat!”

Remy felt his jaw twitch and he squeezed his eyes closed for a second when the guy behind him grabbed his tied hands and yanked his whole body back.

“Shit, he’s so good boss! Tight and everything,” he said, speeding up and a second later he was coming, spilling his seed inside.

Remy banged his head against the table when the next one stepped into place, barely waiting for the first one to pull out. Fuck, this was gonna be a long night.

Adrian crouched down to look into his eyes.

“They’re gonna pound that nasty hole of yours into submission, dog. And when they are finished, I will be the one to ruin you completely.”

This time, when Remy spit, he managed to hit him between the eyes.

 

***

 

Adrian hadn’t been joking. All of the grunts had their turn, some even twice, fucking Remy over and over until he felt like his hole was rubbed raw. His ass was making squelching, lewd noises from so many loads of come and somehow all of them found that extremely funny.

At first he swore, spewing profanities like there was no tomorrow, but then one of the guys actually cut his underwear off from where it was tangled around his thighs and stuffed it into his mouth, leaving him no way to release his anger.

He was hurting all over. As much as he hated to admit it, not being able to even just voice his rage made him more aware of his body, and that wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all.

He hated it, he did, but there was no denying the way his cock reacted to the constant, unyielding stimulation. Sure, the goons didn’t actually try to make it good for him, but they did manage to nail his prostate from time-to-time on accident.

He was half hard, dizzy with the concussion and tired by the time they finished. The only thing keeping him on his feet was the table under him.

“Shit, that was good,” the last one said, slapping his ass as he pulled out. Remy could feel come sliding out of his gaping, abused hole and down the inside of his thigh, making him shiver. Fuck.

“What do you want us to do with him, Adrian?” another one asked, and he tried to keep himself from showing how much he didn’t want there to be more of this.

The man hummed, his feet crunching on the debris littering the floor as he came closer. He stopped behind Remy, pulling his asscheeks apart and rubbing at his puffy rim with his thumb. He wished it didn’t feel almost good.

“Well, just look at that! You’re dripping, dog; your mouth down here has been fed well and now it’s slobbering all over the place,” he said, grin apparent in his voice. He spit, his saliva hitting Remy’s crack, adding to the mess bubbling out of his hole.

He growled, unable to do anything else with his underwear stuffed into his mouth. Adrien jabbed three of his fingers inside, making him squeeze his eyes together. Too much.

The man didn’t care, he started fingering him like he had all the time in the world,and he wouldn’t stop fucking talking.

“I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to take it so well to this, but it looks like you’re not only a dirty dog, but also a  _ bitch _ .”

Remy tried kicking out, but he lacked both the strength and the mobility - with his jeans around his knees - to do any damage, and it just made Adrian snort.

“Still have some fire in you, eh? Let’s see if we can do something with that…”

He twisted his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper until he found that spot that made Remy’s eyes roll back. No. Fuck this piece of shit.

But he couldn’t do anything but take it, feeling heat gather in his belly whenever Adrian managed to rub over his prostate just right. It was infuriating, the way his body was betraying him.

His cock twitched between his legs, no matter how much he wanted to stay soft.

“That’s right, dog. You’re just a stray begging for some scratches, aren’t you? No matter how much you like to play house in the Haven, I know you. You’re a dirty, rabid mutt that should have been put down long ago,” the man said, keeping his aim steady, nailing his prostate over and over as he finger-fucked him.

Remy bit down on the fabric in his mouth, and just wanted… He didn’t even know what he wanted anymore. To come and have it finally done and over with? For Adrian to stop? Something.

He was tethering on the edge of coming when the man pulled out, leaving his hole empty and gaping, trying to clench down on the fingers that weren’t there anymore.

“I bet you want to come, dog, but I’m afraid you will have to work for it a bit more,” Adrian told him.

“Get him on his knees,” he ordered, and two of his men were already there, grabbing Remy by the shoulders and forcing him down to the floor. The sudden movement made the room spin for a few seconds.

Adrian yanked the remains of his underwear out of his mouth, making him swallow thickly, moving his aching jaw around to get the feeling back to it.

“Fuck you,” Remy grunted out as soon as he was able to speak, and barely even flinched at the slap he got in return.

Adrian was smiling, and that looked like a bad omen.

“Now, dog, here’s how it’s going to go. I’m going to fuck that dirty mouth of yours, since you can’t seem to keep it clean. What do you say?”

Remy grinned. 

“Just try putting your cock anywhere near me,” he said. He never bit a cock off before, but there was always a first time for everything.

Adrien laughed.

“That’s big coming from you! Do you say the same to your precious little  _ Mason _ ?”

Remy felt his whole body going rigid and cold. What. How. How did asspipe know about Mason?

Adrian smirked, eyes twinkling with mirth in the low lamp light.

“What is it, dog? Cat got your tongue?” he asked. One of his lackeys started giggling.

“Or did you think I just… caught you on accident? I mean don’t get me wrong, revenge is definitely a part of it, but I’ve been watching you that Safe Haven of yours for weeks now, trying to find a way to put my hands on your supplies… And it had been an interesting few weeks.”

He crouched down in front of him, grabbing Remy’s chin to make him look into his eyes.

“I know about him, I know where he lives - where the two of you live - I know the exact trajectory a molotov cocktail would have to take to land on the bed beneath the window…”

Remy closed his eyes. Fuck. Fuck. He couldn’t tell if Adrian was bluffing or not, and it was driving him crazy. Because… Because even if there was a one percent chance that he could hurt Mason… Remy couldn’t risk it.

The man must have noticed the defeat in the line of his body, because he chuckled.

“That’s right. So, again, this is how it’s going to go, dog. I’m going to fuck that insolent mouth of yours and come down your throat until you’re choking on it. Then we are going to stash you in a nice safe place until your pals over at the Haven pay the handsome little ransom I have in mind. I think your charming Mason will move heaven and earth to get you back.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Remy was still numb from just a thought of anything happening to the only person he loved when Adrian got to his feet.

“Pry his mouth open. I don’t want an… accident.”

One of the goons beside him grabbed his hair, keeping him steady while the other stepped behind him, and forced his jaw open, pushing his fingers between his teeth. Not like Remy was fighting it too much, his brain stuck on the threat. He gagged a bit at the intrusion, but it was nothing compared to Adrian’s cock. It was big - he was a big guy even there - and uncut, and Remy’s eyes filled with tears as soon as it slid into his mouth.

Adrian wasn’t playing around. He grunted and pushed forward, jamming his cock down Remy’s throat, until the head popped past the last bit of resistance and slotted into his throat.

He couldn’t breath. Instinctively he tried to… to pull away or bite down, but he couldn’t. He was pinned there between the goons and that fat dick pounding into him, fucking his face.

“Yeah,” Adrian moaned, hammering his hips forward. There was saliva dripping down Remy’s chin, frothing out the corner of his mouth. 

He couldn’t do anything other than choke again and again, swallowing down tiny gasps of air whenever Adrian decided to pull back far enough. He felt like he would throw up if he could, but with the man’s cock plugging up his throat, he couldn’t even do that. 

So he swallowed. And swallowed and swallowed, making Adrian groan when his muscles contracted around the head of his cock. The knowledge that it caused the other man to feel good just made Remy want to throw up more. He was going to kill them. All of them. He just had to…

Adrian grabbed his face in both hands, holding onto his hair as he rammed inside, picking up speed. His pubic hair tickled Remy’s nose every time he pushed inside, mashing his face against his groin.

Remy closed his eyes and gagged, whole body trembling as Adrian’s balls kept slapping against his drool slick chin.

Adrian shouted when he came, yanking Remy close and keeping him pressed up against his belly. It felt like it lasted hours - pinned there with bitter come trickling down the back of his throat. His vision was starting to go gray, head pounding dully. He didn’t even know if it was the concussion or the lack of oxygen.

When Adrian was finished, he pushed him to the floor, and Remy crumbled like a ragdoll. He gagged. Even with the cock gone, he had to fight his body to keep his food down.

Adrian laughed.

“Phew. Well, that was pretty nice. Maybe I will have you again before your friends get here…”

Remy closed his eyes. 

“Or maybe I will fuck you on the corpse of your dear Mason.”

 

***

 

He was too dizzy to remember too much, but he was moved around, carried into the next house and inside an old wardrobe that somehow survived the zombie apocalypse. Remy didn’t care. He just wanted to rest a bit.

 

***

 

The next time he opened his eyes, his head was clearer. Oh, it still hurt. Hurt a fucking lot, but the dizziness was gone. That was good, because he had stuff to do.

He tried his hands first. His wrists were still tied behind his back, almost completely fallen asleep, but with a little work and quite a bit of teeth grinding he managed to get them working again. The ropes were rough and not very well tied. All he needed was a bit of lubrication…

It took him maybe three minutes to rub his wrists bloody against the ropes, and from then another two to get his hands free. Finally.

The closet was dark and he didn’t know if there were any guards, so he stood carefully, pulling his pants up. He had no underwear, and his crack was a mess of grease and come, but he didn’t care.

He had his own revenge to take.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the wonderful Lithophene for commissioning me again!
> 
> And all my love to the amazing Emma who helped me keep going!

**** By the time he managed to crawl back to the Haven, it was dark. Remy honestly had no idea if it was even the same day when he went out, but he didn’t fucking care.

He was hurting all over; his ribs, his head, all the different bruises everywhere, and he was cold with the blood soaking his clothes turned black and clammy.

The second the sentries saw him they lowered the gates and someone was coming down to get him when he just… kind of dropped to one knee. Damn. This wasn’t the way he wanted the guys to see. Sure, most of them were good - as good as the zombie apocalypse lets anyone be - but they were still… potential enemies. Everyone was, when the world was a constant war for resources.

Except Mason.

 

***

 

He was taken to the small, makeshift infirmary. Normally, he would have avoided the place like it was on fire, because - again - he wasn’t a big fan of being at others’ mercy or showing weakness. But he didn’t have much a say right now, considering two of the guys on duty had to literally drag him there.

Everyone was freaked out over the extensive amount of blood, and Remy tried to reassure them that it wasn’t his own, except his tongue felt too heavy and dry, making him slur like he was high as a kite.

He was the farthest from high, to be honest. Fucking bastards.

But they got what was coming for them, they did…

 

***

 

The next few hours were spent with Remy slipping in and out of consciousness. He was dimly aware of being undressed, of being examined… And of knocking out their doctor when he got too handsy for his liking. He would probably have to apologize for that later.

He couldn’t fall asleep though, not… not in a bed that wasn’t his own, with people around who he knew, but didn’t  _ know _ .

Somebody tried to give him a shot of something and Remy flailed until he fell off the bed, ready to crawl under it driven by some misguided animal instinct until he heard a familiar voice.

“What the hell are you doing?” 

Remy would have recognized that drawl anywhere. Mason. 

His body relaxed, finally feeling as close to safe as he could, and he didn’t fight it when a pair of rough, warm hands pulled him to his feet. His eyelids felt too heavy to lift, and finally he let them drop completely, because everything was going to be okay now.

“Get your ass in the bed,” Mason told him gruffly and practically lifted him up. Remy let him. With his mind as addled as it was, he could admit to himself that there probably wasn’t a single thing he wouldn’t let Mason do to him.

The last thing he remembered was taking hold of Mason’s hand and now letting go.

 

***

 

Mason was still there when he opened his eyes. The pounding in his head was much duller, and Remy knew they gave him something. It made him annoyed. He didn’t like taking anything that would muddle his senses, not when there was danger in every corner.

“Hey there, handsome,” Mason said, grinning. He looked tired, but fine as always. Remy wanted to say something witty back, but…

“I think I totalled the bike,” he said instead, blinking slowly. Damn, whatever they gave him had been strong.

Mason raised an eyebrow. He’d spent countless man-hours on making that thing the best it could be and Remy sort of expected him to be fucking livid. Instead he just smirked, squeezing his hand.

“I haven’t seen a bike that couldn’t be fixed up with a bit of dedication and TLC, and you know how much I love a challenge.”

Remy snorted, even though it made his chest hurt. Someone taped his ribs, which was good, but also made breathing a bit more challenging than usual.

“Wait until you see it.”

He hoped it was still there. He didn’t remember seeing it at the hideout of those bastards, so that was good, but there were scavengers all over the city, anyone could have taken it. He kind of wanted to go out right now and look for it, before some fucker got their dirty hands on it. That bike had been his baby.

Mason probably saw what was going through his mind, because he clucked his tongue.

“I’ll get some boys out there to bring it in when the sun is up, handsome. Don’t try anything funny on my watch, or I will have to knock you out for your own good,” he said. His thumb was pressing circles into the back of Remy’s hand. It felt nice. 

“I assume the bastards who did this are not around to cause trouble?” he asked, almost as an afterthought. It made Remy remember, his mind flashing back to being elbow deep in blood as he handed out those goons their due, and he pulled his hand away, acting like he was swiping the hair out of his forehead, and not desperately trying to escape Mason’s touch.

He did a lot of bad things today. He didn’t deserve the comfort.

As always, Mason saw right through his bullshit, grabbing his hand again and holding it firmly.

“Tell you what. You get another bit of sleep and I will get you out of here when you wake up. Sounds good?”

It did. All Remy wanted was to not be in an unfamiliar bed, surrounded by unfamiliar noises and smells. He wanted their bed. He wanted to just… stop for a while.

His eyes were already falling shut when he nodded.

“S’good.”

 

***

 

Mason did good on his promise. He always did, it was one of the things Remy loved about him. He was dependable, he always came through no matter the circumstances and that was a rare quality in the wasteland that the world has become.

It had been even before that, too.

The way to their little room seemed to be even longer than dragging himself across half of the city. But Mason was right there with a careful arm around his waist. Thankfully they didn’t have wheelchairs, otherwise Remy was pretty sure he would have been forced into one.

Damn, he was still covered in dirt. Even with the painkillers in his system, all his little - and big - hurts still lingered just under his skin. Someone put him in a clean set of clothes and he hoped to hell it had been Mason.

“Almost there, handsome,” Mason said, not even sounding winded from supporting him. Remy felt like he was about to collapse. “I have a lovely, hot bath ready for you.”

“A what?” he couldn’t remember the last time he had a shower, not to mention a bath. There was barely any running water, not to mention  _ hot  _ water.

Mason fucking winked. Remy couldn’t decide if he wanted to punch him or kiss him.

“You heard that right, my man. A hot, steaming bath.”

He just shook his head in disbelief and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. 

Their room was just like he remembered, small and somewhat cluttered, his belongings mixed with Mason’s. He remembered how had it had been at first, to let their things mingle, to trust each other enough that nothing would be taken away… But that had been a long time ago. Now it felt completely natural, natural enough that for the first time since he got free, Remy could feel his spine lose some of the stiffness.

And lo’ and behold, there really was a large, beaten up tub in the middle of the floor. Remy blinked at it for a second, not sure if he was hallucinating.

Mason grinned, gently lowering him to the bed.

“Told you, didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Remy replied, his mouth tugging into a reluctant smile. He had no idea how Mason did it. He must have bullied - or sweet talked - a bunch of people into dragging that monstrosity here and then he would have had to boil the water bucket-by-bucket in the kitchen.

That was a lot of trouble to go into. For someone like him.

“Now come on, let’s get you out of your clothes,” Mason said, but the second he reached for him Remy went tense. It was stupid. He knew it was. Mason was the only person he never needed to be afraid of, but still. His couldn’t tell that to his body, not when it was still aching from…

“Sorry,” he croaked out. Fuck. 

Mason looked at him, his eyes serious. Knowing.

“Hey. There’s nothing to be sorry about, okay?” 

Remy licked his lips. Yeah, he kind of gathered that the doctor would have told Mason what happened. What  _ exactly  _ happened. He didn’t know if he was angry or relieved. 

On one hand, he didn’t… he didn’t want Mason to know it. He didn’t want it to ruin whatever they had together. Remy was always a firm believer of ‘fake it until you make it’.

But on the other hand, he couldn’t imagine keeping this from Mason, and he had absolutely no idea how he would have made a confession like that.  _ Hey there, I’ve been raped. _ Yeah, not likely.

He just didn’t want to think about it. It made him angry.

“Just. Let’s not,” Remy told him looking away. He couldn’t bear Mason looking at him like that. He pulled his shirt over his head with a lot of grunting and his muscles screaming, but at least Mason didn’t try to help. That was good. Remy didn’t like it when he was treated like an invalid.

His trousers came off easier, though he couldn’t quite stop his hands from shaking. It wasn’t even about  _ that _ . Just left over adrenalin from what happened. From what he did. After. 

It had been a while since Remy killed people who weren’t already dead. Sure, blasting a zombie’s head off was pretty much like doing it to a human, but zombies… They didn’t bleed. Not like living creatures. They didn’t have hearts to pump blood out of deep cuts, to cover you in a sticky, hot mess.

Remy let Mason undo his bandages, sitting very still to avoid jarring his cracked ribs.

What did Mason think about that? He had to know, didn’t he? Remy came in like he’d just been cleaning up the inside of a human meat-grinder. There was no way Mason didn’t know that he took lives yesterday.

“Come on,” Mason said when he was done unwrapping him like a fucked up Christmas present, “Let’s get you in that bath.”

Remy hissed when he stood. He didn’t bother taking his underwear off, and Mason didn’t offer, so he sank to the water just like that. It was too hot, boiling the skin right off his bones. Perfect.

He sighed after finally getting as comfortable as he could. The tub wasn’t big enough to stretch his legs out, but that was okay, Remy felt like curling up into a ball anyway.

The leg of a chair scratched against the floor as Mason pulled it over, sitting down beside him.

“Need some help with the hair?” he asked. Remy almost told him to fuck off out of spite, but realized just in time that he wouldn’t be able to raise his arms up that high, so he nodded, sitting up and leaning forward.

He hated how vulnerable he felt with his naked back on display. Mason didn’t deserve this, to be mistrusted by someone like him.

“Managed to grab some actual shampoo,” he told Remy, chatting away like nothing was amiss. “The good stuff too. Want to get you back to looking like goldilocks.”

Remy couldn’t help but smile. There was something so fucking relaxing about listening to Mason ramble on. He didn’t even startle when the man dipped an old mug into the water and wet his hair.

 

***

 

The water was cold by the time they managed to get him clean. It was almost funny how stubborn blood was to get out from the creases of his fingers. Remy stood up on shaky legs and Mason dried him off carefully, subtly not looking while he changed his underwear to a dry one. It was both disconcerting and touching.

“Come on, you need to rest,” he said, and Remy was too tired to argue. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to... 

Their bed was as lumpy as always, but Remy have never felt anything more comfortable than lying on the old mattress and pulling the familiar, scratchy blankets over himself. He felt like he could sleep for a year. Or a thousand.

“You think there’s place for me, too?” Mason asked quietly, sitting at the edge, like he was ready to fuck off if Remy didn’t want his company.

He considered it for a second, but shook his head, scooting over.

“Always,” he said, throat feeling too tight.

Mason huffed out a breath that was almost a chuckle and slid in behind him - close enough to share his body heat, but careful not to touch.

Remy had never felt safer in his life.

 

***

 

He startled awake from a dream that wasn’t concrete enough to be a nightmare. Remy blinked at the room, searching for danger, but there was none.

Mason was usually a cuddler, clinging to him like a monkey when they slept, but to his surprise, Remy realized that the other man haven’t moved an inch, giving him the distance he didn’t want to ask for, but still appreciated.

“You m’kay?” Mason slurred, his breath hot against the back of Remy’s neck.

“Yeah, yeah fine. Just can’t sleep,” he admitted, turning around gingerly, pressing a little closer.

Mason didn’t ask him anything, just took him into his arms, holding him carefully, like he was afraid to break him. Maybe that was it. Maybe that was the reason why Remy just had to curl against him and hide his face in Mason’s chest.

His whole body was shaking as he started crying. Fuck he hated to be like this, to be so… weak.

“Hey, it’s okay, handsome, I’ve got you,” Mason said, and the easy acceptance in his voice just made him cry harder. Fuck. Fuck Adrian. Fuck the apocalypse. Fuck his life, seriously.

Mason rubbed his back, fingers warm and calloused.

“It will be alright.”

Remy shook his head, laughing a little. Bitter.

“Hate to break it to you, but there’s no sex in the foreseeable future for you, not the way we do it” he blurted out. God, what would he do if Mason decided he couldn’t wait? They never talked about it, but the truth was, Mason was as straight as you could be while still fucking a guy. It had never been a problem before, because Remy had been A-okay with taking it up the ass, but that… that might change now.

He could feel it as Mason’s chest rumbled as he hummed under his breath.

“Well, there ain’t only one way to have sex, handsome…”

Remy almost choked on his own saliva.

“What?”

Mason shifted around until he was looking into his eyes.

“Just what I said. I mean… I know I haven’t really- Well. You know… did the other way around, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try? If you would be okay with it?”

He looked so earnest that Remy didn’t know what to do with it.

“Sure I would be, but you… I don’t want you to do something that you don’t want to, okay? Fuck, it’s enough that I got so fucked up-”

Mason didn’t let him finish, just darted in for an easy, sweet little kiss.

“Handsome, you might be the best scout we have, and the hardest person in this damned place, but that doesn’t mean you could make me do anything against my will.”

Remy blinked and Mason broke out in a brilliant smile.

“‘Cause I have you wrapped around my little finger,” he said, making him snort. He didn’t even mind that it was the truth.

Mason kissed him again, longer this time. Remy waited, expecting something awful to happen, for his memories to resurface, but there was nothing. There wasn’t a single thing about Mason that reminded him of what happened.

“So, wanna try? I bet you could sleep a lot better after getting your rocks of.”

Remy swallowed, closing his eyes and just… enjoying the familiar feeling of arousal pooling in his belly.

“Yeah.”

Mason smiled, entangling himself from the covers to get the lube from their make-shift nightstand and lose his underwear. He motioned for Remy to get on his back and straddled his thighs.

“Wanna walk me through it, handsome?” he asked, winking at him.

Remy snorted. 

“You know damn well how it goes, don’t play coy with me,” he shot back, his hands finding their way to Mason’s thick, muscled thighs.

“Oh, well. I will manage.”

He almost bursted out laughing as he saw the way Mason’s nose scrunched up, tongue peeking out of his mouth in concentration as he started fingering himself. He kind of wanted to help - his cock twitching from the idea - but maybe his lover needed to do this on his own to be comfortable.

“How’s it going?” he asked, seeing the exact second when Mason finally started to relax and things began to feel good for him.

“Ah… fine. Just. Give me a sec, you rascal.”

Remy felt warmth bubble up in his chest. Mason was doing this for him… he had no doubt that he wouldn’t even consider it for the sake of anyone else.

“Take all the time you need,” he said, voice maybe a bit more choked up than he would have liked.

Mason actually didn’t take that long. Or at least Remy didn’t notice, too caught up in watching the way his chest flexed, the way his neck arched as he fingered himself open. The light was glinting off his beard and somehow he looked like those elegant greek statues museums used to be full of.

“Shit, okay, I think I’m done,” he said finally, his cock was half hard, fat against the crease of his thigh, but Remy didn’t try to touch it. Maybe he was selfish - no, he definitely was - but he wanted Mason to feel this. Every second of it.

They worked his underwear off without jostling his bruised and beaten body too much, his cock springing up like a jack-in-the-box as soon as it had the room, making Mason laugh.

“Eager, aren’t we, Remy?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

It happened almost too quickly. Mason lifted himself up and grabbed Remy’s cock, lining it up and then he slid down just like that, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Mason hissed, stilling for a few, torturous moments. Remy was getting worried.

“Hey there, everything alright?”

Mason nodded and then lifted himself up again a fraction. The drag of his hole against his cock made Remy see stars.

“Yep. It’s… I can’t decide if it’s better or worse than what I imagined, but it’s sure as hell a lot more intense.”

Remy squeezed his thigh in encouragement, wishing that Mason could feel as good as he did. 

“We can stop…” he gritted out, but it was hard to talk when Mason kept moving, making Remy’s whole body tremble with pleasure.

“Not a fucking chance,” Mason said. He always loved a challenge, and it wasn’t different now either. Remy didn’t miss the way his cock kept twitching the more he got into it.

“Shit… try arching your back a bit,” he said. He wished he could get up and help. Or hold him close. Or do something other than just lay there getting ridden. Oh, he was enjoying it, but he wanted Mason to enjoy it, too.

His lover did, sweat glinting on his body as he fucked himself on Remy’s cock, and he could see the exact second when the change in position let him hit Mason’s prostate.

“Holy fucking…  _ shit _ .”

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s better, isn’t it?”

Mason didn’t reply, throwing his head back as he lifted himself up again and again, letting himself drop down. It didn’t take long for the both of them to lose themselves in the pleasure.

Remy was getting close, no matter how much he wanted to drag it out, to have Mason’s body just a little longer. With effort he unclenched his hand from where it was pressing bruises into the other man’s thigh and grabbed his cock, jerking it fast and hard.

Mason gasped, eyes snapping open and coming just like that, his hole tightened up, squeezing Remy so, so perfectly, chasing him into his own orgasm.

“Fuck,” Mason said with feeling, flopping off him and onto his side. It made Remy want to smile, feeling… hopeful and okay for the first time since he had been taken.

The world threw the fucking apocalypse at them, and they didn’t break even when they were alone. Now they were together and he was pretty sure there was nothing that could stop them.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at udunie.tumblr.com
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked it!


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